


If You Wanna Take a Shot at Me, Then Get in Line

by annie_reckson



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/F, Genderswap, dub-con, fem!Moran, fem!Moriarty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-25
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-13 18:43:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1237009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annie_reckson/pseuds/annie_reckson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU where London is held firmly in the grasp of the fiercely feminine Moriarty, who finds herself more than enamored with a ruthless assassin</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lions and Tigers

The Tigress was seemingly everywhere in London and nowhere; her name was uttered in hushed whispers and only in private circles. The few that had seen her face and knew her identity were wise enough to keep that information safe from public knowledge. She was efficient, ruthless, remorseless, and apparently invisible. Like a vengeful ghost for hire. And Jane Moriarty had to have her.

It had taken the work of all of her contacts, all of those employed under her, and every uncouth homeless vagrant that spied on the city for her, but she'd finally found her and forced a meeting. In the middle of the afternoon at an unassuming cafe like any other cafe in the city. And Jane had dressed to intimidate: short hair slicked back and pinned immaculately, tight grey shift dress, dark red blazer, and impossibly impractical heels accentuated by perfectly lined eyes and aubergine lips. She knew how important it was to never play it safe when you weren’t sure what to expect.

Precisely fifteen minutes after their scheduled meet time, a tall blond slumped into the seat across from her and lifted an eyebrow in her direction. Jane catalogued her appearance in one long sweep: short, shaggy blond hair sticking up in a way that fakes nonchalance, piercing blue eyes, full lips currently set in a smirk, tanned skin, tight black tank top, tight jeans, and combat boots. Her whole look made it seem like she’d just arrived by plane from Australia or California. Delicious.

Then she opened her mouth and her accent belied her obvious North England upbringing, “So I suppose you’re Moriarty, then?”

Jane nodded, “And I suppose you’re the Tigress that I’ve heard so much about?”

She smiled, “That I am.” No, not quite the north...somewhere closer, perhaps Lancashire. At that moment, a server arrived with two cups of tea, sugar, and milk.

“I ordered you a tea, I hope you don’t mind,” She took a sip of her own, “Do you have a real name?”

“Oh no no, I’m afraid I can’t divulge that.”

Jane interlocked her hands and leaned forward, placing them on the table, “Now Sabrina, did you really think it would be difficult for me to find out? Don’t pretend like you don’t know who I am.”

Sabrina Moran just shrugged and rested her hand on her fist, “I’m sorry, are you someone important?”

Jane grinned angrily, “Important enough that I can have you dead just by batting my eyelashes in the right direction.”

She chuckled, “Oh, you mean the bloke sitting by the door? Don’t think I didn’t notice him.”

“I hoped you would. You do know that you’re far too talented for the work you’re doing. Come work for me. Exclusively”

“Why do you think I’d want to work for you? At all?”

“You fought in Afghanistan, you like danger, and you’re good at what you do. You’re lucky if you get more than a few jobs a month with the small-time boss you have now. And they’re all in London. I can offer you international travel. Work for me, and you’ll have your hand in the deaths of very important people. I know you’d like that.”

“You seem to think you know an awful lot about me.”

Jane widened her eyes at her, “I know you were a sniper working out of Kandahar. I know you were the best not just in your squad but _any_ squad. I know you got dishonorably discharged but I don’t know why.”

Sabrina sipped her tea, “Would you like to know why?”

“Of course, dearheart. I think I’d like to know everything about you.”

She set her cup down and crossed her arms, “Some asshole tried to rape me one night so I cut his dick off and set him on fire. Apparently that’s not correct protocol.”

Jane had never been so turned on in her life, “It would be in your best interest to consider my offer, dearest,” She stood up abruptly.

Sabrina grabbed her arm as she tried to walk by, “What would I be doing for you?”

She chuckled darkly, “Oh no, I’m afraid I can’t divulge that,” She tugged her arm away, “I take it you’ll know how to get in touch with me with your answer.” She bit her lip, refusing to look back, refusing to give her emotions away to the incredibly tantalizing assassin she wanted so badly.

***

A week later, Jane got her answer in the form of one of her bodyguards shot in the forehead outside her apartment with a handwritten note stabbed to his chest that simply read “YES.” Jane retaliated by making Sabrina’s first hit her former boss. No need to leave any loose ends. That very night, Sabrina had met Jane in her office, locked the door, marched over to her, and kissed her so deeply that Jane thought her legs would fail her. Sabrina furiously hiked up Jane’s pencil skirt, lifted her onto her desk, and proceeded to go down on her for almost an hour, until Jane was nothing more than a wet, quivering mess lying askew on her own desk.

Everything was beautiful and nothing had ever been more perfect.


	2. It tasted just like all the things I was missing

It was one of those rare, perfect London afternoons. Barely twenty degrees with a few clouds drifting across the sky to prevent the sun from being unbearable.

Sabrina sipped generously from her soda bottle - it was at least half whiskey, but the dark color of the soda camouflaged it well - and reclined back onto the blanket she'd laid out on the grass for them. Jane sat cross-legged next to her, scowling at her phone and typing an angry message at some unfortunate soul. Sabrina took a moment to enjoy how unassuming Jane must have looked to passersby in her flowy skirt and tank top. But she, no doubt, at this moment held the strings to someone's life at the end of her fingertips.

"J, can you give it a rest for a minute? Lay back and enjoy the day with me."

She cut her eyes over, "I'll relax, Sabba, when I'm ready. Business has to be taken care of first."

Sabrina arched her back, "Work, work, work. All the time."

"I hardly think you have room to complain, it keeps you properly stocked with that awful swill you enjoy so much."

"Attitude like that, I'm liable to not share with you anymore."

Jane snatched the bottle from her and look a long sip then cringed, "Ugh. My da would murder me if he knew I was drinking that piss poor excuse for liquor. Yuck. You are aware we can afford much better, yeah?"

"Why waste the money when I can throw down twenty quid and get a handle of this?"

"Because it fucking tastes like you paid twenty quid for it."

Jane looked down at her phone and smiled brightly, wiggling her feet a bit with glee. That could only mean one thing, the transaction she'd been fretting over all morning was finally about to transpire.

She patted Sabrina enthusiastically on the arm, "Keep your eye on Drinking Horse!"

"On fucking what?"

She gave her a sneering look, "The fucking statue of a horsehead, Sabba."

Sabrina squinted her eyes and tried to focus on what looked like two men approaching the statue from opposite directions. She was jealous of the pair of binoculars Jane had pulled out of her bag. But, as Jane had pointed out, they couldn't both be seen using binoculars.

Even without them, though, Sabrina was able to just make out one man handing a small briefcase to the other. Then, the second man seemed to start an argument with the first before punching him, knocking him to the ground, and - wait did that idiot stab him? - before running away with the briefcase.

Jane screeched through gritted teeth and slammed her fist to the ground. There was a fury in Jane's eyes that Sabrina rarely saw, it made her unconsciously shrink back. Jane snatched up her phone and jabbed a number into it before standing up abruptly and stalking around the grass behind them.

"No YOU listen!" She shouted to whomever had the misfortune of answering the call, "And you listen good. I worked too hard putting this together for that...knob-end to fuck it all up!" She paused, "No. I don't care how you do it, but if that cocksucker is still drawing breath when the sun comes up tomorrow, I will claw your eyes out with my bare hands, saute them in garlic, then force-feed them back to you. Is that understood?"

She grunted one more time before collapsing back onto the blanket, tossing her phone aside, and laying her head across Sabrina’s lap. In a comforting gesture, Sabrina began running a hand back and forth through Jane’s hair. She listened to the dark-haired woman hum contentedly before turning her head to the side and exhaling loudly onto the bare skin of Sabrina's thighs.

“Why are people so stupid, Sabba?”

Sabrina continued stroking her hair, “I’m a bit confused, love, thought you liked a lovely bit of murder in the afternoon?”

“Oh, there’s nothing I love more. It’s the most fun a girl can have with her clothes on. But I spent weeks - Goddamnit! WEEKS! - getting the Libyans to agree to this deal. And what happens when I finally get this whole charade pulled together? Some ambitious arsehole mucks it all up. This will take days to fix...”

A crowd was starting to gather around the murdered body, with more than a few mothers shielding their children’s eyes. It made Sabrina smirk, the way these people viewed the dead, shying away as if they were something to be feared. No doubt someone was calling the Met to report the unfortunate incident, meaning the dandy boys would be there any moment. Jane huffed and sat up, tousling her hair around in an attempt to fix the mess Sabrina had made of it.

“Let’s go, Sabba. We can go to my place, leave all the windows open, you can ravage me properly...Then I’ve got a homicide to plan.”

Jane slung her bag over her shoulder and hurried away from the park while Sabrina packed up as quickly as possible and followed swiftly behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally can't listen to [this song](http://youtu.be/k2Q1b9MtLXk?t=26m32s) anymore without getting serious Fem!MorMor feelings


	3. Sometimes being happy baby is what I'm most afraid of

Jane experimentally pulled on her wrists to check her restraints. No give whatsoever. A little shake told her that the cuffs around her hands were attached to a chain from the ceiling. A slight shifting of her knees caused a rustling noise that had to come from plastic sheeting. And that could only mean one thing.

"Oh my, is someone moving when I told them not to?"

Jane froze, "No, Mistress."

"And lying, too? Tsk tsk. We need to do something about that.”

Jane flinched as the flat of an ice cold blade slowly glided across the top of her back. The freezing metal then traced the line of her clavicle before the tip lightly dragged along her shoulder and up her neck until it rested under her chin.

A sultry voice whispered in her ear, “What’s your safeword?”

“Medea.” She stated, as firmly as she could.

“Good.”

The knife tilted and the edge of the blade now drew a thin trail down her chest and under her breast, a quick flick of the wrist at her rib cage created a small cut, miniscule, merely a threat of things to come. Jane tried to hold herself as still as possible, breathing as shallowly as possible. She could feel the sharp edge move further south, now gently splitting the skin on the side of her abdomen. As soon as she felt the first bit of warm liquid spread on her skin, the cold steel was replaced with a thick, warm tongue that licked its way all the way up to her breast. 

An identical line was etched onto her other side, followed again by the rough, inviting texture of her Mistress’s strongest muscle. Then, three quick swipes on each thigh that barely broke the skin, but were quickly pressed and kneaded until the blood flowed freely and could be smeared up and down her formerly pale thighs. Jane bit her lip and moaned, wanting desperately to thrust her hips but knowing she couldn’t. 

Another blade tip, somehow colder than the first, began tracing a thin line along the sensitive skin on her sides and upper arms, continuing until it reached the palm of one hand and went down the palm of the other. She shivered minutely, all the heat in her body pooling in her groin. Then the flat of the blade roamed slowly down her back until the knife reached her arse and lightly swatted it a few times.

She exhaled deeply when the blindfold was finally pulled off. Sabrina’s dark, wide eyes were inches from her own and her lips were deliciously parted. Jane tilted her head forward in vain, desperate for contact and needing to taste her perfect assassin. Thankfully, Sabrina smiled and indulged her, pressing her lips firmly against Jane’s mouth and flitting her tongue around until it was granted entry. Sabrina wrapped one arm around her protectively and used the other to gently rub her very warm pussy.

“Mmm...J, your cunt is so wet, is this all for me?”

Jane nuzzled her head into Sabrina’s shoulder, “Yes, yes, all for you.”

Sabrina pulled away to look her in the eye again, bringing her fingers up to her lips and obscenely licking them before softly nudging Jane’s thighs further apart and smoothly sliding her fingers inside. She crooked her fingers slightly and began rocking them up in a steady motion, causing Jane to pant feverishly until she couldn’t take it anymore and cried out as her muscles tensed and released over and over, finally sagging as Sabrina pulled out of her. 

After a quick, reassuring kiss on the cheek, Sabrina stood up and released the chain from the ceiling, lowering it slowly until Jane’s arm rested in front of her. Then, she unlocked the handcuffs, massaging Jane’s wrists one by one as she did so. Finally, she grabbed a thin blanket and wrapped it around Jane’s shoulders before grabbing cotton balls and a bottle of alcohol off the bed. 

Sabrina caressed her cheek, “This is going to sting a little alright? We’re going to go slowly but let me know if it’s too much.”

“Sabba, you highly underestimate my tolerance for - OUCH FUCK WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING.”

“I told you. Just hold still, alright? It’ll be over before you know it.”

Jane grit her teeth, “Sabba you are an  _ evil _ woman.”

“Sorry love, gotta make sure these are clean.”

Only after another few minutes of bickering was Sabrina finally able to wash the cuts to her satisfaction and pull Jane forward to hold her in her arms. At first it was like trying to snuggle an angry cat, but Jane eventually relaxed and let Sabrina run her fingers through her hair. A smile even crept across her face when she heard Jane let out a small, contented sigh.

“I wish you could come with me tomorrow, Sabba.”

Sabrina kissed the top of her head, “You know I can’t, J, I’ve got the job to take care of in Lancashire.”

“Budapest won’t be the same without you, what am I to do without my Tigress?”

She giggled, “Oh I’m sure you’ll be your usual cruel, stubborn self. In fact, I’m counting on it.”

Jane sighed, “I’m not sure I can be anything else. I just wish I could postpone my trip until Lancashire was done with. But that ex-Soviet... _ govnosos _ needs to learn his place.”

Sabrina wrapped her arms around her tighter, “Mmm...I do so love when you speak in other languages.”

“I know you do,  _ kotik moya _ .”

“Hush before I ravage you again,” Sabrina slowly started to stand up, “Would you like some tea?”

Jane stretched out before moving to the bed, “Of course dearheart. Would you mind bringing me some pajamas as well?”

Sabrina smirked and rolled her eyes, “Of course,  _ azize delam _ .”

Jane smiled and hugged her knees to her chest. Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so, the Medea mentioned is NOT the Tyler Perry character, but rather a figure from Greek mythology that fell in love with Jason (of the "and the Argonauts" fame) who pretty much murdered her entire family to ensure he got the Golden Fleece. She also uses her magick powers (oh yeah, she's also an enchantress) to make sure they have a safe voyage to Corinth. THEN Jason tries to betray her by divorcing her and marrying a different king's daughter (which would pretty much guarantee a shitty life for her as a foreigner in Corinth). So Medea is like "Not on my watch" and sends the princess a gown that's covered in poison and kills not only her, but the king as well when he tries to save her. So then Jason is all about trying to get her to explain herself but as he's arriving, Medea straight-up MURDERS THEIR CHILDREN right in front of him and flies off in a chariot.
> 
> So what I'm saying is, Jane Moriarty would really like Medea (and honestly, everyone should like or at least empathize with Medea).
> 
> Also, _Govnosos_ (aka my new favorite insult) is Russian for "Shit-sucker"  
>  _Kotik moya_ is Russian for "my kittycat"  
>  _Azize delam_ is Farsi for "my sweetheart" (my headcanon is that Sabrina speaks near-fluent Farsi, having served in Afghanistan)


	4. Sucking My Heart Out Of My Mind

The Woman. _The_ Woman. Despite her harsh exterior, there were few people in this world - alive at least - that Sabrina could truly say that she hated, but she definitely _detested_ The Woman.

First of all, she had ruined the end of The Game. It had all been carefully planned as a way for Jane to figure out exactly how dangerous this “Sherlock Holmes” really was. The sound of the first bomb going off and shattering his windows had caused Jane to squeal and clap with glee in the backseat of the kidnapped woman's vehicle. Sabrina had just smirked and cocked her gun while telling the crying bint where to drive.

It had annoyed her when Jane had decided to give Holmes the Janus clue, it seemed like cheating. And she had shuddered when Jane gave her the command to shoot the old woman, but Jane had insisted that it was necessary for “the Game”. Holmes was enjoying himself too much, she said, and needed a reminder of whom he was dealing with. An equal, yes, but not a gentle one.

Sabrina had refused to cooperate when Jane had chosen a child as the next hostage. She had never considered that she might possess a soft spot or two, but after too many years of seeing crying children abandoned after their parents were killed in bomb strikes, she couldn’t bring herself to harm another one. Although she couldn’t be completely absolved of any guilt as she’d remained steadfastly by Jane’s side while they counted down the precious time left. It hadn’t been easy once the little boy had been forced to finish the countdown himself, and it took every ounce of strength Sabrina had not to intervene. In the end, she was thankful that the detective was as clever as Jane clearly imagined him to be, and not just because of the radiant expression on Jane’s face as a posh accent shouted out “VAN BUREN SUPERNOVA” with everything he had.

But kidnapping Sherlock’s little army doctor had been quite fun. He had tried to fight back at first - even with the rough bag over his head - but Sabrina had tied his wrists together tight enough that any struggle only worsened his condition. And after that, he’d only stared at Sabrina with blank ire before asking her pointedly whether she’d served in Afghanistan or Iraq. Sabrina had only licked her lips and smiled. When they had started snapping the bomb vest into place, his stoic expression faltered a bit, eyes widening in fright as if he’d only then fully realised his predicament.

It was Jane’s idea to push little John out there first, make Sherlock squirm a bit before allowing John to reveal the explosives. And from Sabrina’s view from the second floor, the expression on Sherlock’s face was absolutely worth it. She aimed her rifle right for John's chest as Jane made her grand entrance.

Sabrina had to hold her breath when Jane first stepped into sight; of course, she’d been wearing the same thing twenty minutes before when they’d parted - a long-sleeved red and black pencil dress with a mesmerizing patchwork tribal design on it and ridiculous black heels - but Jane was carrying herself differently now, fiercer, like a cat that finally had the mouse by the tail. Her lips were painted dark as she grinned mischievously and practically skipped over to where John and Sherlock were standing. Sherlock still aimed the gun at her but his resolve was clearly shaken, of all the things he’d expected, gorgeous Jane Moriarty was certainly not one of them.

She was playfully flirtatious as she taunted the detective, asking him if he’d enjoyed their “little Game”, if he enjoyed flitting about the city solving all her little mysteries and loose-ends, finally chiding him that, “Momma’s had enough now.” Sherlock, sour sport that he was, remained stony-faced and felt the insipid need to self-righteously remind her that people had died.  

“THAT’S WHAT PEOPLE DO!”

The red dot traced over John as Jane spoke, even as Sabrina knew she was unlikely to pull the trigger. The plan was to intimidate them and walk away. Scare them enough that they would want to stay away. Although, for Sabrina's part, she wasn't actually sure if Jane was ready to let this one go.

Then, Sabrina jumped as Sherlock’s little housemate decided to grasp onto Jane and shout at Sherlock to run. She grit her teeth in anger before pacing around the top floor until her little red dot was right in the middle of Sherlock’s forehead, knowing it would be more than enough for the army brat to back off. From her new position, she couldn’t see Jane well anymore, but she could hear her giggle and brush her hands down her dress, cheekily saying, “McQueen.”

John’s sudden reaction changed the tone of the meeting and made her realise that she wasn’t comfortable with Jane being down there alone. Her finger rested a little tighter on the trigger. Anything could go wrong with Jane’s plan, the worst involving the detective making use of the Browning in his shaky hand. Jane however, didn't seem frightened at all; forcefully yet non-chalantly stepping into Sherlock’s face and threatening to burn the heart out of him if he didn't back-off. The pistol was too close to her face now and an unconscious shudder went through Sabrina's body when Sherlock threatened to use it. The next few minutes were a blur as Sabrina readied herself for the worst case scenario, and a huge sigh of relief escaped from her lips when she finally heard Jane’s heels tap loudly down the hallway as she tauntingly called out to the detective “No you won’t!”

Silently, she rested her rifle against the wall and nodded quickly at the other snipers before making her way downstairs as quietly as possible and greeting Jane at the bottom with a fierce hug. She stroked the shorter woman’s hair a few times, relieved that the ordeal was finally over. But when she pulled back, the first thing Jane told her was that she had to go back out there, had to bully them just a little bit more. Sabrina sighed. Jane was never happy just leaving things be, refusing to settle for “just right” rather than over-the-top.

Sabrina knew that once Jane was determined, very little could stop her, so instead of wasting time trying to convince her - and possibly giving away their position - she ran up the stairs two at a time and immediately aimed her rifle right back at the head of unruly, dark curls. A shudder went through her when she saw him aim the handgun right at the vest of explosives. Her gasp froze in her throat. It was too close to Jane. She grit her teeth as she watched Jane try to keep her face stoic even as she knew what what would happen. Even if she ran as soon as he pulled the trigger, she’d never escape the force of the blast. Sabrina was just about to take the shot on Sherlock when the sound of annoying saxophones echoed through the building.

_I used to think maybe you loved me/Now I know that I’m sure..._

Sabrina stifled a chuckle; she’d always teased Jane about her ridiculous ringtone and now it had possibly saved her. It was clear that the boys had no clue what was going on, but Jane just grimaced at the poor timing.

_I’m walking on sunshine/Whoa oh oh/I’m walking on sunshine_

“Mind if I get that?”

Sabrina had no idea who could be calling her, not very many people had Jane’s actual number and none of them should have needed to discuss her services this late in the evening.

Jane seemed apprehensive, “If you’re lying, I’ll find you and I will skiiiiiiiiiiiin you,” After a bit more discussion, she lowered the phone and turned towards the boys, tilting her chin a bit and looking away, “Sorry, wrong day to die.”

Sherlock’s sarcasm shone through, “Get a better offer?”

She focused her eyes on his and blew him a kiss, “No worries love, you’ll be hearing from me,” then spun around on her heels and continued her conversation as she walked out the door, “So if you have what you say you have, I'll make you rich. If you don't, I’ll tan your hide and make you into a handbag.” And with a snap of her fingers, all the snipers turned their scopes off, Sabrina included.

***

A few days later, Sabrina finally got a chance to meet The Woman when Jane insisted she tag-a-long to their meeting. They were meeting at Ms. Adler’s residence, which Sabrina freely admitted she wasn’t fond about - she always preferred to have the home field advantage, or at the least a neutral field, for first encounters. But Jane had steadfastly waved off her concerns, telling her she was far too paranoid about other people.

Sabrina snorted, “You’re alive today because of my paranoia.”

Jane squeezed her hand, “I’m alive today because you’re an excellent shot.”

Sabrina exhaled deeply and took in her surroundings: Ms. Adler’s “office”, if that’s what she called it, was little more than a sparsely-furnished room with deep burgundy walls and a dark-stained hardwood floor. An ornate black desk - obviously either French or modeled to look French - with matching chairs and two sizeable lamps were the only furniture in the room. If not for the large window opposite them, the room itself would seem dark and oppressive. Definitely deliberate.

When The Woman finally walked in, Sabrina arched an eyebrow, surprised at how...demure she looked. Knowing her profession, Sabrina had expected something a little racier, perhaps more risque, instead she was wearing a short-sleeved cobalt dress with long lace at the hem. Sure, her stilettos were quite tall and strappy, but her attire combined with her elegant posture and the artful way her hair was styled made it difficult for Sabrina to believe that this was the woman who cunningly had her heel on the throats of so many of those in power. Even as she catalogued this, she knew the effect was intentional; everything about this Woman so far hinted at a conscious desire to draw attention to the juxtaposition between a classy demeanor and a scintillating lifestyle.

When Irene sits, she crosses her legs daintily and rests her sharp chin on her fist, “So you must be Moriarty,” She locks eyes with Jane and cocks half her mouth up in a smile, “I’ve heard _delightful_ things about you,” She switches her sight to Sabrina, “Which would make you...the Tigress? A name like that...Mmm...I have to admit, it’s a bit sexy. I’d love to hear the story behind it someday,” She lifts an eyebrow before turning back to Jane, “I am sorry for keeping you both waiting, my last client took longer than expected.”

Jane gave her a sharkish grin, “Just don’t let it happen again, we’re all busy women here.”

She - possibly unconsciously - pouts her lips, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Sabrina barely paid attention for the rest of the conversation, instead focusing on the flirting gestures and lascivious looks Irene continually pointed in Jane’s direction, constantly looking like she wanted to devour her whole. It would have made Sabrina jealous if it wasn’t so _obvious_. Clearly, whatever Irene wanted Jane’s help for, it was something particularly insignificant, so she thought if she acted charming, she might be able to sway things easier into her favour. It was so...pathetic. Surely at any moment Jane would roll her eyes and bring this whole charade to a-

“Hmm...alright I’ll help you.”

Sabrina’s head whipped to the side. Had Jane really just agreed to this? Had she actually fallen for this...manipulation?

Jane licked her lips and smiled, “But I will need a favor from you in return.”

This seemed to pique the Woman's interest, "Oh really?"

Jane idly tapped her fingers on the arm of the wooden chair, “If you’re telling me the truth, then we both have a shared interest in Mycroft Holmes.”

Irene narrowed her eyes, “How so?”

“Oh my,” Jane giggled and grinned, “Don’t tell me you’re unfamiliar with one of the most powerful men in London?”

“I can’t say that I’ve ever encountered him-”

“No...he’s not the type to seek out your type of...recreational activity.” Jane cheekily stated, causing Sabrina to snort involuntarily.

She cocked an eyebrow, “So why should I have an interest in him?”

“Because as soon as we let the Crown know what type of pictures you have, I’m betting the first thing they do is involve Holmes,” Jane steepled her long, manicured nails under her chin, “And hopefully he’ll see fit to involve that brother of his.”

“Brother?”

“Oh, you’ll like him, I think. I’ll send you more information about dear Sherlock,” She bit her lip and looked past the Woman and out the window at the London skyline, “Oh yes, this could be very fun indeed,” After a moment, she rose from her chair, “Well, that’ll be all for now, I think. Come Tigress, we’ve got work to do.”

Irene stood up abruptly, “Wait. You said that you also had business with Holmes. What’s yours?”

Jane gave her a long once-over, then smiled and ran her tongue along her teeth, “That’s enough to be getting on today, isn’t it? When the information becomes relevant, I’ll let you know.”

Sabrina smirked as she followed Jane out the door and down the hallway. Throughout the entire trip back through the house and into their awaiting car, Jane typed swiftly on her phone with a mischievous grin on her face. Finally, as their car pulled away, Jane reached over and playfully danced her fingers along Sabrina’s thigh.

“Oh Sabba,” She purred, “I believe this is going to be even more...pleasureable...than I imagined.”

**Author's Note:**

> Once the idea of a female Moriarty was put into my head, I knew I absolutely had to flesh her out. 
> 
> And my headcanon for how Sabrina looks is based very heavily off of the very sexy Cybill Bennett from Silent Hill


End file.
